


Lost and Found

by venusinthenight



Category: Ashes to Ashes
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusinthenight/pseuds/venusinthenight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaz is a bit lost and confused in her new world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goluath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goluath/gifts).



> Set before the series starts. Contains a small (yet important) spoiler for Series 3, Episode 8. This may not follow canon completely.

The last thing Shaz remembered, she was on a street somewhere in London, and she had been stabbed with a screwdriver. Now? She was still on a street somewhere in London, only she was laying on a sidewalk. She looked down and noticed she was wearing a navy skirt, black opaque tights, and black shoes more in line with what her grandmother would wear. Above that, she noticed she still had on most of the usual PC garb, except for a bright jacket. She reached and felt above her head; she still had a hat on. The other thing Shaz noticed was she wasn't bleeding. It’s all right; it was just a nightmare, she thought to herself. On the other hand, it seemed so real. That screwdriver seemed so real.

Shaz got up and noticed a car nearby -- a yellow late 1970s Rover SD1. She checked her reflection in the window glass. Her curly hair was gone. In fact, it looked like she had much less hair. She removed her hat and noticed the short bowl cut. Too strange. She felt around her jacket pockets; there was a bulge in one of them. In her left pocket, she found a set of three keys -- what they went to, she didn't quite know -- along with a little bit of money and a small wallet. She opened it up and saw her warrant card. _WPC Sharon Granger; Fenchurch East CID_ jumped out at her.

“ **W** PC?” she asked herself. “I thought men and women were equals?”

She decided to see if any of the keys unlocked the car. None of them worked. She opted to walk all the way to CID. As she did, she took in her surroundings, still quite confused. Everything around her looked much different than she thought she knew, like it was stuck in a different time period. Soon she passed a newspaper kiosk and had a look at one of them.

It was dated 1980.

 _I need to see my mum. She'd be able to help me make sense of this._

But Shaz, somehow, knew she needed to head to work right then. Finding her mum would have to wait. On the other hand, perhaps throwing herself into a good case would help her take her mind off everything. However, when she finally got to CID, it turned out this was not going to go like she thought it would.

“Oi! Plonk!” yelled a gruff, male voice as she entered. “Tea, five sugars, PRONTO!”

She looked at the man who spoke. He was middle-aged with somewhat-thinning blonde hair with a bit of a double chin. He wore a black suit with a same-coloured trench coat, black leather driving gloves, a black button-down shirt, and a burgundy tie. His demeanour frightened Shaz somewhat, but she did her best not to show it.

“Did you hear me, plonk?!” he exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Guv,” she replied as if by instinct. “I’ll get on that straight away.”

Shaz removed her hat and placed it on what she presumed to be her desk, covered with various case files and included an old 1970s typewriter, before heading off to the kitchen. She found all the necessary things, filled the kettle with water, and put it on. Somehow, for some reason, all the pent-up frustration of the day so far rose up in an instant, and she began to sob.

“You okay, Miss?” Another male voice. This voice was not as rough-sounding as the Guv’s, not as dominating. It was much more soothing to the ear, very earnest-sounding.

Shaz turned around, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I shouldn’t be crying on the job.”

The man, only a few years or so older than Shaz, with his brown hair and compassionate green eyes, walked over to her and retrieved a handkerchief for her from his trouser pocket. “Why ‘r you apologizin’?” he wanted to know as she wiped her eyes.

“I... I don’t know. I just...” Shaz didn’t know how to explain to him what happened, about what she still thought was a nightmare but still seemed too true in her own mind.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he whispered. After a beat, he added, “You must be the new plonk here. What’s your name?”

“Shaz. Shaz Granger.”

“DC Chris Skelton. Just transfered here from Manchester a few days ago.”

“Do you know that man in there? The one with the really gruff voice?”

Chris smirked a little. “Yeah, I do, and all too well, I’m afraid. DCI Gene Hunt. Worked with him in Manchester. He transfered down here, too.”

Another man entered the room. This one had a moustache and a perm and wore a brown leather jacket with a navy turtle-neck underneath. “Oh, look, Chris has found himself a new plonk!”

Chris turned to look at him with a furrowed brow. “Get off, Ray!”

Ray snickered, then turned his attention to Shaz. “Trust me, love. You won’t want anythin’ to do with him; he’s completely useless.”

“Don’t listen to him, Shaz,” returned Chris. He smiled at her and headed back to CID, Ray not far behind.

* * *

Shaz’s shift ended. The day turned out to be pretty unspectacular for her; she spent most of it serving tea to “The Guv” and the other detectives, or filing cases away, all the while wondering when the hell she was going to be free from this place. This wasn’t what she joined the police force for. Though, if Shaz were honest, she couldn’t remember exactly when it was she started at the police academy. Her internal clock was still confused; despite knowing it was 1980, she swore she started much later than that year. Something was wrong, but she didn’t know what. _I need to see my mum._

She left work and made her way to her flat, as if on autopilot. It was very quaint and simply furnished. One bedroom, one bathroom. Her first move was to go through the wardrobe in her bedroom and look for something to wear that wasn’t a WPC uniform. When she finally saw all its contents, her face lit up with a smile. Tight-fitting, figure-hugging jeans, slightly oversized tops, sexy firey reds, lace, vintage hats... it was a bit like a secondhand clothing shop, only everything seemed to belong to her! Shaz pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and a black lace button-down. Once she was dressed, she went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She loved the outfit, but it needed something more. First she found a tube of bright fuschia lipstick and put that on. Then she found some eyeliner and applied that. Next she remembered seeing a black satin hatbox atop her wardrobe and returned to retrieve it. Inside she found a few hats -- mainly a black beret and a few 1940s-inspired dress hats with front nets in various colours, but nothing seemed right. No matter.

Shaz made her way out the door and began walking again, looking for somewhere, anywhere, to go and get her mind off the day. It didn’t take long for her to find The Blitz; it took an even shorter time for her to make it inside. She looked around and saw hordes of people dancing to the music which she didn’t quite recognize and made an effort to join in. As she danced and got lost in everything, nothing mattered anymore. She became so engrossed and entranced, she didn’t spot Chris entering her view.

“Shaz?!”

She looked up with a start. “Oh my god. Chris!”

Her jaw dropped. Chris looked so different out of his work attire, with the black lips and extreme eyeliner. It was kind of fascinating, really. “D’you come here often?”

“Sometimes. I kind of like coming once in a while. Don’t have the Guv or Ray here to poke fun at me.”

Shaz smiled. She understood what Chris was talking about. After all, both of the other men had given her a hard time, too. She wondered how he could endure it all for as long as he did, however long that was.

“D’you want to dance?” Chris asked.

“Fab!”

They were inseparable that night. They danced, laughed, talked, got to know each other better -- or as well as they could, given Shaz still felt a little lost. But despite that, she also began to think she’d been found, that as long as Chris was there for her and with her -- even if he did turn out to be a bit thick -- she’d be fine and, eventually, everything else would be forgotten.

Later that night, Chris saw Shaz back to her flat. Once he left to return to his own home, she breathed a sigh of relief. The confusion was gone. It was as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, like she had nothing to worry about. Shaz was content.

 _Because maybe,  
You’re gonna be the one that saves me,  
And after all,  
You’re my wonderwall._


End file.
